


A Name Lost Among the Ashes

by monopolizeme



Series: You Are the Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, soft conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monopolizeme/pseuds/monopolizeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek asks Stiles about his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Name Lost Among the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> A short scene between Derek and Stiles based on this photoset on [my tumblr](http://mydearsourwolf.tumblr.com/post/42362049436/why-do-you-call-yourself-stiles-derek-asks).

"Why do you call yourself Stiles?" Derek asks, softly. "You never use your first name; why is that?"

Stiles’ eyes flicker, but his shoulders bend heavy and tired and Derek can feel it, the weariness that wraps itself around Stiles’ bones.

"My Mom used to call me by my first name," Stiles murmurs, finally. His voice is soft, almost too soft to hear and Derek tilts his head towards Stiles. The boy’s mouth is tinged with a slight smile, but it pulls at his mouth in a way that shouldn’t be. "My dad used a lot of nicknames - ‘kiddo,’ ‘little buster,’ - but my Mom always called me by my first name."

Stiles looks away now.

"Doesn’t feel right to hear it anymore. She’s not here to say it. She gave me that name - and she isn’t here to say it."

He gives a slow shrug of his shoulder and Derek doesn’t miss the way the corner of Stiles’ mouth flinches slightly.

Derek shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against Stiles. He waits, seeking permission as the quiet darkness of Stiles’ room blankets around them.

Stiles turns his face towards Derek.

"It doesn’t feel right," he says, sounding too young and broken, but he isn’t talking about Derek.

Derek nods, wordlessly and then presses his forehead against the curve of Stiles chin and Stiles lets him, takes in Derek’s touch and gentle steady weight. Derek nuzzles his way into Stiles neck, naked and warm and fragile, and breathes in, as if he can draw Stiles’ pain into himself. He exhales.

"It’s ok," says Stiles but his voice sounds tired, as if the topic has aged him and stolen something from him. "It’s ok."

He falls quiet, lets Derek’s warmth curl around him and beneath his skin, lets Derek palm the base of his skull, blunt fingernails dragging outwards, as Derek draws him in, breathes him in and out.


End file.
